d, I hear." "He was no longer
Fouquet," replied the Duc d'Ayen; "Your Majesty had permitted
him to change that name, under which, however, he acquired all
his reputation." The King shrugged his shoulders. His Majesty
had, in fact, granted him letters patent, permitting him not to
sign Fouquet during his Ministry. I heard this on the occasion
in question. M. de Choiseul had the war department at his death.
He was every day more and more in favour. Madame treated him with
greater distinction than any previous Minister, and his manners
towards her were the most agreeable it is possible to conceive,
at once respectful and gallant. He never passed a day without
seeing her. M. de Marigny could not endure M. de Choiseul, but
he never spoke of him, except to his intimate friends. Calling,
one day, at Quesnay's, I found him there. They were talking of
M. de Choiseul. "He is a mere _petit maitre_," said the Doctor,
"and, if he were handsome just fit to be one of Henri the Third's
favourites." The Marquis de Mirabeau and M. de La Riviere came
in. "This kingdom," said Mirabeau, "is in a deplorable state.
There is neither national energy, nor the only substitute for
it--money."

"It can only be regenerated," said La Riviere, "by a conquest,
like that of China, or by some great internal convulsion; but
woe to those who live to see that! The French people do not do
things by halves." These words made me tremble, and I hastened out
of the room. M. de Marigny did the same, though without appearing
at all affected by what had been said. "You heard De La Riviere,"
said he,--"but don't be alarmed, the conversations that pass
at the Doctor's are never repeated; these are honourable men,
though rather chimerical. They know not where to stop. I think,
however, they are in the right way; only, unfortunately, they
go too far." I wrote this down immediately.

"The Comte de St. Germain came to see Madame de Pompadour, who was
ill, and lay on the sofa. He shewed her a little box, containing
topazes, rubies, and emeralds. He appeared to have enough to
furnish a treasury. Madame sent for me to see all these beautiful
things. I looked at them with an air of the utmost astonishment,
but I made signs to Madame that I thought them all false. The
Count felt for something in his pocketbook, about twice as large
as a spectacle-case, and, at length, drew out two or three little
paper packets, which he unfolded, and exhibited a superb ruby.
He threw on